Spring Has Sprung - And So Has My Garden

Now that spring is here, I've been out in the garden too, which has been an absolute joy. There's something about spring that makes you want to be outside, hands in the soil, creating something living and beautiful.

I've been doing lots of digging and moving plants from pots to flower beds, preparing everything for the growing season ahead. And I've had "help" from Lola, our new border collie puppy, who absolutely loves digging.

She's been digging holes all over the garden - not always in the places I'd have chosen, but her enthusiasm is endearing even when it's slightly destructive!

Lola has got me out walking every day too, which has been a blessing. There's something wonderful about being forced to slow down and walk at a puppy's pace, stopping to investigate every interesting smell, every bird, every leaf. It's meditative in a way that my usual purposeful, goal-oriented exercise isn't.

We've been enjoying the bluebells in the woods - that incredible purple-blue carpet that only lasts for a few weeks each year. The joys of spring in England - the longer days, the warmer weather (relatively speaking), the sense of everything coming back to life after winter's dormancy.

The Importance of Doing What You Love

Here's what reclaiming my art studio and spending time in the garden has reminded me. Doing what you love isn't a luxury. It's essential.

We're so good at prioritising everything else. Work. Training. Obligations. Other people's needs. The endless list of "shoulds" that fill our days. And somehow, the things we actually love doing, the things that feed our souls, that make us feel like ourselves, that bring us joy just for the sake of joy, those things always end up at the bottom of the list. "I'll get back to painting when things calm down." "I'll spend time in the garden when I'm less busy." "I'll learn that new skill when I have more time."

But things don't calm down. You don't get less busy. You never have "more time" - you only have the time you make.

Training for an Ironman taught me about discipline, commitment, pushing through discomfort. But somewhere along the way, I'd let that discipline become all-consuming. Everything was about training, racing, improving performance.

My art, my garden, my creative pursuits - they got pushed aside as "not important" compared to hitting training targets. But here's what I've realised. They're not less important. They're differently important. They feed a different part of me.

The part that needs to create, not achieve. The part that needs beauty, not performance. The part that needs to make things just because making things brings joy.

Balance isn't About Perfection

Balance isn't about doing everything perfectly. It's not about training AND creating art AND gardening AND writing AND working AND maintaining relationships AND keeping the house clean. That's not balance.

That's just adding more things to your impossible to do list. Balance is about recognising what feeds your soul and making sure those things don't get permanently buried under everything else that seems more urgent.

For me, that's art. It's gardening. It's creating things with my hands. It's being outside in the spring sunshine with a puppy who thinks digging holes is the most important work in the world.

Training for endurance events is important to me. It's taught me things about myself I needed to learn. It's changed my life in fundamental ways. But it's not the only important thing.

Writing is important. But it's not the only important thing. Making art, using my hands, creating something beautiful just because I can - that's important too. Spending time in the garden, hands in soil, watching things grow - that's important too.

Making Space for What Matters

Reclaiming my art studio wasn't just about clearing physical space. It was about reclaiming a part of myself I'd let drift away. It was about remembering that I'm not just an athlete or a writer or someone who ticks things off lists.

I'm also an artist. A gardener. A creator. Someone who needs to make things with her hands to feel fully herself. And you know what? Making time for art hasn't made me a worse athlete.

Making time for gardening hasn't made me a worse writer. If anything, it's made me better at both because I'm feeding all parts of myself instead of just one.

The Things That Feed Your Soul

The things that feed your soul aren't distractions from your "real" work or your "important" goals. They're not ridiculous extras you can only do when everything else is done.

They're essential parts of what makes you human, what makes you you. You can be an athlete AND an artist. You can be a professional AND a gardener.

You can be disciplined about training AND make time for creative play. You can achieve big goals AND do things just for the joy of doing them. But only if you stop treating the things you love as optional extras that only get attention when everything else is sorted.

Spoiler alert: everything else is never sorted. There will always be something else demanding your time and attention.

Spring Reminds Us to Grow

Spring has this wonderful way of reminding us that growth is natural. That things want to bloom. That with just a little attention and care, beautiful things emerge. But here's what spring also reminds us: growth requires space.

You can't grow if you're buried under everything else. You can't bloom if you never see sunlight. You can't flourish if you're constantly crowded out by everything that seems more urgent.

My art supplies couldn't create anything while they were buried under storage boxes. My garden plants couldn't thrive while they were cramped in too-small pots. And I couldn't fully be myself while the creative parts of me were pushed aside as "less important."

Making space - physically and mentally - for the things you love isn't selfish. It's necessary. It's how you stay yourself through all the roles you play and all the demands on your time.

What's Waiting to Be Reclaimed?

Whatever it is, spring is the perfect time to reclaim it. To clear the space. To make the time. To remember that doing what you love isn't a luxury you can only afford when everything else is perfect.

It's essential. It's how you stay whole. It's how you remember who you are beyond all the things you do for everyone else.

Start Today Don't wait for next week

Don't wait for things to calm down. Don't wait for the perfect moment when you magically have "more time."

Clear the space today. Make the time today. Do the thing you love today. Even if it's just ten minutes. Even if it's imperfect. Even if everything else isn't sorted yet.

The part of you that needs to make, to create, to grow, to do things just for the joy of doing them - that part is still there, just buried. It's time to dig it out. Spring is here. Things are growing. Let yourself grow too.